Sirius Black and the Resurrection War
by Zana G. Nicholson
Summary: Sirius Black has waited for many, many years beyond the Veil, looking for a way back to Harry. One day, a mysterious stranger offers him a way out, and over a long time, manages to free him. However, Sirius' freedom comes at a price, because he is not the only one to return from beyond the Veil, and not everyone is quite as they were before death... Please review guys! Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

It had been a long wait for Sirius Black.

Time had no measurable unit, no meaning beyond the veil, but he knew it to be many years since he had fallen through.

But the wait did not matter anymore. Because he had a way out.

As Sirius fell, he noticed many things that he would not normally have observed. He felt the air around him swish and buzz, his body cutting heavily through it as he struggled to regain his footing. He noticed how ugly Bellatrix truly was, more so now than ever, her features twisted in a combination of shock and delight as she realised what was happening to him. And perhaps most importantly, he felt intensely, for the first time in their relationship, how much Harry loved him. He noticed the whispering of the Dead, surrounding him, drawing him in, suffocating him. Among the whispers, he thought he heard James and Lily, clamouring to be heard, crying for him. Grief swept over him, and grief was the last emotion Sirius Black properly felt, before he died.

He landed, not with a thud as he expected, but gently, on a cold floor. He immediately leapt to his feet and rushed forwards to step through the archway again; but there was no archway anymore. There was only mist and shadow, all around him, every way he turned.

Sirius felt panic rising in his chest; surely this was not death, surely it couldn't happen, just like that? But even his panic felt muted and remote, as though it belonged to someone else now. He shook his head vigorously to clear it, but to no effect. Holding his hand out in front of him to gauge how thick the mist was, he noticed that his hands had a shimmering, translucent quality. In fact, it was his whole body.

Dead, then.

'Sirius.'

It was not a question or an exclamation, but a flat, disappointed statement. Sirius whirled around, and where moments ago there had only been emptiness, now stood James Potter.

James looked somewhat similar to Sirius, in that he was there, but not quite _solid. _The expression on his face was one of sadness, although he smiled.

'James', Sirius croaked. 'I can't…I have to be able to….Harry!'

James reached out a hand to Sirius, rested it on his shoulder, although Sirius felt nothing. 'It's over Sirius', James said sadly. 'Dumbledore will take care of him now.'

Sirius sank to his knees, away from James' touch because it frightened him, and unable to stay on his feet for a moment longer. 'No', he whispered, 'it can't end like this. I can't leave him James! He is the one good, useful thing I have done in my life, the one thing I'm proud of! There has to be a way! Bellatrix didn't use the Killing Curse, I must be able to go back through the Veil!'

'There is no way Padfoot', James replied gently, hunkering down next to his long-lost best friend. 'Don't you think we would have done it, if we could?'

The 'we' roused a grain of curiosity in Sirius. 'Where's Lily then?' he asked gruffly, not willing to look James in the eye. He felt that if he did, he was admitting defeat.

'She's near', James sighed, 'I thought it would be better for me to come alone. Look Sirius, we will help you, I swear. Because of how Lily and I died, we have a stronger connection to the world than most of the others here. Because we died protecting Harry, as long as he lives, we have a thread in the door. I suppose you will too. It's a curse, in some ways. Knowing and seeing, and being unable to do anything.'

'I won't leave this spot', Sirius growled, 'I will not move. There's a doorway here, I will find it, and I will get back to Harry. When did you give up trying James?'

'It's not as simple as that Sirius', James explained patiently, 'we died. We _really _died and then we became part of this…whatever this is. There are much nicer places than here, this is sort of like a waiting area. I only came to bring you back with me. I think it's easier to accept it, when you die first. But when you let go, you will be able to watch what happens to Harry, you will be able to support him with your spirit. He feels it Sirius, I know he does.'

'Please leave me alone', Sirius hissed through gritted teeth, 'you're the ghost of a friend I lost a long time ago, and you are of no help to me now. My place is with the living, not with the dead. Harry doesn't need my spirit, he needs my mind and my presence. He needs a father.'

James withdrew a foot or two sharply, as if he had been burned. There was silence between the two for what felt like an age, but time has no meaning where they were.

'When you change your mind, just say our names', James whispered. 'We'll welcome you with open arms.'

For a split second, Sirius glanced up and met his friend's gaze. He saw such pain and frustration there that he almost felt guilty for his behaviour.

Almost.

'Harry', Sirius said quietly, 'Harry's what I'm fighting for. And I will not give up.'

James did not respond, but Sirius thought he gave an imperceptible nod. Sirius briefly put his hand to his eyes, and eased himself to his feet.

When he looked up again, he was entirely alone.

Sirius Black sat in that spot, at the passageway between worlds, and simply existed. Never a patient man in life, he learnt that skill the hard way now. Every now and then, he had a spurt of energy, and he would recite charms, run his hands over every inch of the ground, scream, beg, and even cry for freedom. As time went by, he grew more and more translucent. This, along with the remoteness of his own feelings, terrified him. Nobody else came to help him, and although he often heard James and Lily beg him to stop, he never saw them again. His one sustaining thought through it all was Harry. Because he refused to enter the world of the Dead, he could not see or know anything that was happening on the other side. His world was light and shadow, whispers and silence. He did not sleep, because there was no need. He just….was.

Nobody else fell through the Veil, in all the time that Sirius sat there. Occasionally this puzzled him, but then he supposed not many people were stupid enough to engage in battle in the Department of Mysteries and accidentally fall through.

Then one day (or night, he wasn't sure which), he heard a voice which he was quite certain did not come from the world beyond the Veil.

'Sirius Black…Sirius Black?'

He leapt up from his slumped position on the ground and stared around wildly.

'Hello?' He shouted, half excited, half afraid.

'Sirius Black, is that you?' the voice was stronger now, and sounded excited.

'Yes, yes!' He cried, 'Who are you? Where are you?'

'My…my name is Nigel Oakridge', came the reply, so close that the owner of the voice may as well have been standing over his shoulder. 'And I have very much hoped to hear your voice….are you really Sirius Black?'

'Yes yes of course I am', Sirius cried, 'I've waited…I don't even know…how long has it been?'

'It's been four years Sirius', came the reply.

His heart dropped. Four years. So much wasted time. The war could hardly still be going on. 'Harry', he said hesitantly, afraid of the answer, 'is he…what's happened?'

There was no answer for several minutes. Sirius' heart had not pounded like this since the day he died.

'I'm losing the connection', the voice was fainter now, 'Harry is alive…I'll come back again Sirius…this will take a long time but…'

'But? But what?' Sirius was frantic for more.

'I'll come back as soon as I can'. And then there was dead silence again. Sirius realised that while Nigel had been speaking to him, the whispers had stopped completely. He felt as though he had been given an electric shock.

Nigel Oakridge, whoever he may be, had come to look for him.

Sirius Black was not dead yet.


	2. Chapter 2

'He-hello? Sirius? Can you hear me?'

Once agin, Sirius, who had waited patiently to hear Nigel's voice again, was startled from his reverie by his voice.

'Yes Nigel, yes it's me, Sirius!' He stood up, just because he felt like he should be standing at this important time.

'I don't know how long I have. I'll be quick. The war is over, Harry is alive and well. Is there anyone else you want to know about?'

So many people, thought Sirius. 'Remus Lupin?' he asked, his stomach tightening as he waited for the response.

'Dead I'm afraid, Sirius. He died in the Battle for Hogwarts.'

'Oh.' Sirius did not even allow himself to process that thought right now. He did not know how much time he had. 'Battle for Hogwarts?' He asked instead.

'No, Sirius, I have to explain…I work in the Ministry….Department of Mysteries…I'm an Unspeakable.'

'Ah.' That made sense, thought Sirius. 'Why are you trying to talk to me, Nigel?' He asked, suddenly nervous about the answer.

'You're the last person to fall through the Veil. It's my job to study the Veil and the passage of the living into death. The Veil is unique in that it's a visible gateway between the two worlds. I started to think that maybe we could get someone back if they didn't die before they fell through. And I thought of you, because it was so sad Sirius, and the way it happened….I had to try. I've been trying for five years now.'

'Five years? I thought it was four?'

'Five now Sirius…time moves differently in our two worlds.'

Silence for a moment. So much time. So much loss.

'So what happens now?'

'I need to strengthen the connection. I'm using a spell I created myself to speak to you. I'm just on the other side of the archway. Can you see it? What's it like there?' Nigel sounded like an eager student.

'I cannot see the archway', Sirius replied quietly, 'and it is bleak beyond imagining.'

There was silence again, but Sirius suddenly realised he could feel the link between himself and the real world. He felt stronger, more _real _somehow.

'I am so sorry for your loss Sirius', Nigel replied gently. 'I want you to know something. Harry killed He Who-Voldemort. Sorry, old habits. Harry's training to be an auror now. I met him at the Ministry Christmas Party. He's a nice chap.'

Sirius felt a lump rise in his throat, and exhaled sharply to calm himself.

'Get me out of here Nigel', he growled, 'or I'll haunt you forever.'

Nigel's 'visits', as Sirius came to think of them, became more and more frequent; from Nigel's perspective, a month may have elapsed between each one, but to Sirius, time meant nothing anymore, and now that he hope of being freed, he did not notice it dragging by anymore.

Over these months, Nigel updated Sirius on everything that had happened after his death. They also talked about themselves a little. It turned out there had been a biography of Sirius released shortly after the end of the ward; Nigel even read him excerpts from it, which gave him a laugh. Nigel told Sirius about how he had grown up with two Muggle parents, who feared his magic, and had wanted nothing further to do with him when he took up his place in Hogwarts. He was twenty seven years old, and had gone straight into the Ministry from school. He had taken the job in the Department of Mysteries because nobody else wanted it. He was not allowed to tell anyone about what he did at work, and he found this very difficult, so he chose to live quite an isolated life, even sleeping at the Ministry most of the time. Sirius got the impression that he had become Nigel's life's work, although Nigel never said so. Part of him felt uneasy about this, and wondered what kind of dark magic was Nigel dabbling in that he could reverse death. The rest of him, however, could not have cared less what Nigel did to free him, as long as he ended up free.

'How long do you think this will take?' he asked one day, having run out of people to reminisce about at last.

'I'm getting so much better Sirius, I hope to have you freed in the next few months. Can you feel me getting closer?'

'I can', Sirius replied, which was true. Every time he spoke to Nigel, he became a little more solid looking, a little more animated, a little more….alive. The whispers were growing more distant every day, and he felt energy flowing through his body once more.

'I feel like I'm alive again', he dared to say, almost afraid that saying it aloud would make it impossible.

'You are coming to life again Sirius', Nigel replied cheerfully, 'just not quite there yet.'

'How did you come up with this spell, can I ask?' Sirius finally mustered the courage to query.

There was silence for a long time, which Sirius had come to understand meant Nigel was trying to figure out how to word something.

'I have studied life - its forces, its strengths, its failings - for almost a decade now', he replied softly. 'My study has allowed me to step outside the realm of solid reality, as it were, and to look at the world - to look at magic - more abstractly. I believe there is nothing that cannot be done. I think people like the Dark Lord, who seek to gain immortal life for themselves, are so blinded by their lust for power that they are not permitted to see between the layers of life and death, good and evil. I don't want to live forever. I want to free people who didn't deserve to die, from death. You seemed like the easiest prospect, since you were such a recent victim, and you were alive -and very much so - before your fall. I hope, after you, that I can bring more people back to their loved ones.'

Again, that sense of unease tugged at Sirius. 'But…how are you going about this Nigel?' he pushed. No going back now.

'I sought out your voice amongst the whispers, and then, over the years, I focused in on it. Focusing on one voice so strongly made it more real, more present. I just used a spell to enhance that ability. Easy really.'

'But I never spoke', Sirius answered, puzzled. 'I was silent almost all this time.'

Nigel chuckled. 'Sirius, your physical voice may have been silent, but your spirit has been raging! It wasn't hard to pick out your voice among the sighs, because it clearly doesn't belong there! You did half the work, anyone who listened closely would have heard you!'

'But do you not hear the voices of your own dead? your family and friends?' Sirius had asked the question before he thought about what he was saying.

'Nobody loved me my whole life Sirius', Nigel replied matter-of-factly, 'so I have nobody to hear. I am the perfect vessel for such a spell.'

Sirius swallowed hard. 'This spell doesn't involve you dying, does it?' He asked with a wince.

'Nope', came the swift reply, 'after all my work, I want to meet you! I wouldn't let my own life end for you, much as I've come to like you.'

'Good', Sirius said. And he meant it. Too many lives had been lost already.

Seven years had passed before Nigel Oakridge had the strength to do what he had wanted to do for so long. One day, as Sirius sat staring at the spot where he thought the archway must be, he suddenly saw something.

'Hello', he heard the familiar voice in his ear.

'There's something changing here Nigel', Sirius exclaimed. It was so faint that he could hardly make it out, but where before there had only been swirling mist, now there was the outline of an archway. It looked even less solid than Sirius.

'The whispers are getting louder, I think I'm breaking through!' Nigel cried excitedly, 'if you see something Sirius, touch it! Believe it to be there and it will become more real! Trust me!'

Sirius hesitated. All the niggling fears about what Nigel was doing to make this happen were bubbling to the surface at last.

Oh well, he thought. I've come this far.

He walked slowly to the impression of an archway, and stretched out his hand. He expected to meet only air, but his fingers grazed ancient stone. A shiver ran through his body and his heart pounded in his ears. His heart! He had not felt its beat for so very long.

'I can feel it Nigel, it's real', he breathed, placing his palm flat on the stone. As he watched, it became more apparent, more solid-looking. The archway which had been burned into his memory, even though he only saw it in the last minutes of his life.

The whispers of the dead passing through and around were becoming louder…somewhere among them he heard James shouting 'What have you done Sirius?'. Rage and anger, sorrow and bitterness ripped through Sirius like a knife, but they were not his own emotions. He faltered. 'Nigel?'

'Ignore them Sirius!' roared Nigel above the screams of the dead, 'They just don't want to give you back! This is a glorious moment!'

And now, suddenly, Sirius could see the tattered veil, fluttering wildly in the archway.

'What are you waiting for, Sirius Black?' Nigel's voice was filled with glee, 'come on through!'

'I can't!' Sirius sank to his knees and covered his ears. This was worse than any Dementor attack. Flashing through his mind's eye, he saw the deaths of hundreds, thousands of people: peaceful deaths; lonely deaths; violent deaths. He saw life ripped from their bodies, heard their whispers now as they tried to cling on to him. He felt James and Lily trying to soothe him, heard them begging him to stay. He felt life draining from his body again, life that he had fought very hard to keep.

'No', he snarled, 'no, this was not my time.'

He heaved himself to his feet and stepped through the archway.


	3. Chapter 3

For a moment, there was heavy, suffocating silence, and Sirius could see nothing. Then a bright light erupted around him, and he was knocked off his feet by some invisible force. He must have blacked out then, because next thing he knew he was sitting slumped on a bench, with a stranger slapping him in the face. As soon as he opened his eyes, the stranger's anxious expression changed to a broad grin.

'Sirius Black.' The voice was so familiar, it was odd to see its owner in the flesh. Nigel Oakridge was a tall, gangly fellow with blonde-red hair, intelligent brown eyes and a nervous habit of chewing his lower lip, which he was doing just then, while he waited for a response from Sirius.

'Nigel Oakridge', Sirius said in reply. He extended his hand, because it seemed like the right thing to do. Nigel grabbed it and shook it eagerly. It felt strange to have physical contact with someone again, and Sirius let go quickly.

He stood up slowly, shakily, and stretched. He blinked slowly, and finally began to take in the room around him.

He was in the chamber of Death - he would never forget that room. But now, where the archway had stood on that dreadful day, there was only a pile of rubble and dust. Sirius' eyes widened.

'The Veil! What happened?'

'It's all destroyed', Nigel replied softly, 'you were out cold for a while, I had to drag you away from where you were lying when it started to collapse. I've done it Sirius. I've brought you back to life!'

'But…what about the rest of them?' Sirius whispered. 'Are there others?'

'Certainly not', Nigel answered smugly, 'my spell was focused entirely on you. Look, I don't want to rush you, I know this a lot for you to take in, but we need to get out of here without anyone seeing us, and I'd rather do it sooner than later. I've managed to clear the department for an hour, and that time is running out.'

'How did you clear the department?' Sirius asked curiously.

'Oh just a reminder spell', Nigel replied mildly, 'they all suddenly realised they'd left the fire burning at home. Come on, Sirius. Follow me.'

So having no choice but to do as he was told, Sirius followed Nigel towards the exit. His mind was whirling, and he felt nauseous, sweaty and confused….but alive, he kept reminding himself silently, alive.

They reached the end of the Department of Mysteries, and Nigel halted. 'Beyond this door Sirius, you are a dead man', he said seriously, 'I'll need to conceal you as we walk through the Ministry.'

Sirius' sense of unease deepened again momentarily. 'I'm not a criminal anymore am I?' he said impatiently. 'Everyone knows the truth. I'm not hiding. What was your master plan after hiding me then?'

'I hoped to bring you to the Minister', Nigel replied honestly, 'only because I want him to see what I've been able to do - this is a huge success for the Department. He didn't believe I could do it, y'know.'

'Who's the Minister?' Sirius asked curiously, 'anyone I know?'

Nigel flashed him another grin. 'It's Kingsley Shacklebot', he informed him, 'so I thought you might like to see him anyway. He can help you much more than I can. He can set you up with somewhere to stay, re-orientate you to…well, life, I suppose.'

Much as every fibre of Sirius' being wanted to rush out into London and find Harry, he knew Nigel was right. His resurrection would be a big shock for people; best to introduce the idea to one or two people at a time.

'Okay', he conceded, 'bring me to Kingsley. But no concealment.'

Nigel nodded his agreement, relief flooding his features. Sirius was momentarily disgusted by his weakness, but buried this feeling underneath his much-deserved gratitude.

The walk through the Ministry was relatively uneventful. A number of people did double-takes as Sirius walked by, several stopped and stared, open-mouthed; but Nigel ushered him through the corridors quickly, not allowing anyone the chance to stop them.

They arrived at the Office of the Minister for Magic, and Nigel stopped in front of the witch sitting at the reception desk. 'I have important business with the Minister', he said imperiously, 'is he alone?'

The witch looked up and stared at Nigel, taking in that he wore the robes of an Unspeakable. She slid her gaze sideways, to Sirius, and her eyes widened to saucers. 'I…yes…I…' she gaped and spluttered, and pointed to the door into the Minister's Office, 'go ahead!'

Nigel and Sirius smiled at each other, and after a brisk knock, Nigel flung the door open.

Sitting at a large wooden desk, with legs made of gnarled branches, and owls decorating its edges, mountains of paperwork surrounding him, head bent over a document and scribbling furiously, was Kingsley Shacklebot. He did not look up, but waved a hand at the two newcomers. 'I am extremely busy and you have no appointment', he said, 'please come back tomorrow, or make an appointment with Martha.'

Sirius grinned and cleared his throat. 'Oh now Kingsley, that's no way to speak a long-lost friend.'

Kingsley stopped scribbling and slowly raised his head as Nigel quietly closed the door behind them. The Minister stared at Sirius in disbelief. After a couple of seconds he rubbed his eyes furiously, then stared again.

'Sirius…Black. No, is it…wait…Sirius!' He leapt up from his seat and in two strides had his arms around Sirius, hugging him tightly. Sirius returned the embrace stiffly, completely lost for words. But as Kingsley held on to him, he felt all of his fear and anger dissolve. He almost collapsed against him, and to his annoyance, felt tears course down his cheeks.

'I had to come back, Kingsley', he whispered, 'I couldn't die like that.'

'I know', Kingsley replied, releasing him and guiding him gently to a chair. He did not offer one to Nigel. 'Sirius, will you give me a moment to compose myself. Happy as I am to have you back, Mr Oakridge here has flouted my authority in doing this and I do not wish to act rashly in my treatment of him.'

'What?' Sirius was confused. 'Did you tell him…not to save me?'

Kingsley sighed heavily. 'Unfortunately Sirius, I feel a very high price will have to be paid for breaking this fundamental law of magic. I do not know what it will be, but I fear it. As your friend, I would have traded almost anything to have you back. As the Minister for Magic, I have to consider the risks to the wider wizarding community.' Now, finally, he looked at Nigel. Sirius had never seen him look so angry. Nigel raised his chin and stared back at Kinglsey defiantly.

'Minister, forgive me, but you are too short sighted to understand the important of this…of bringing Sirius back to us-'

'Do not make this about Sirius', Kingsley interrupted, his nostrils flaring, hand twitching towards his robe, towards his wand. 'Do not use an old friend of mine to justify meddling with the oldest powers of all. The last wizard who did so met his end too recently for you to have forgotten.'

A shiver ran down Sirius' spine. He stood up, next to Kingsley, and looked at Nigel thoughtfully. His nervousness and awkwardness had taken second place to rage and arrogance now, as he stood with clenched fists before the most important wizard in the country. A young Tom Riddle might have been just like this, he thought, though he hated himself for even allowing the thought.

'I have no choice but to fire you, Mr Oakridge', Kingsley said, his deep voice shaking. 'Leave immediately. Your belongings will be sent to you. Do not darken the doorway of the Ministry again. You are lucky I am not having you arrested.'

_Maybe you should_, thought Sirius.

Nigel's jaw dropped. 'But…but you can't fire me!' He exclaimed, half pleading. 'Sirius, talk to him!'

Kingsley raised a hand to stop him. 'You have used Sirius for your own ends enough already, I think.'

'But I need to hand over my work to someone else…I'll need a month at least-'

'Now, Oakridge!' Thundered Kinglsey, 'Out of my sight!'

Nigel said nothing for a moment, his face twisting in fury and shock.

'You will regret this, Minister', he said quietly. He looked at Sirius again. 'I will send you a message Sirius. We are not finished.'

And with that, he ripped his Unspeakable badge from robe, threw it on the floor and stormed from the room.

Kingsley sighed again and bent to pick up the badge.

'What has he done, Kingsley?' Sirius asked, half afraid of the answer.

'Sit, Sirius', Kingsley replied wearily, 'I have much to tell you.'


End file.
